


dirty

by tisapear



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Bokuto Koutarou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Barely warrants the M rating, Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Omega Kuroo Tetsurou, Training Camp, Vague Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisapear/pseuds/tisapear
Summary: Because it's not forbidden nor hushed, but it's frantic and rushed, the looming deadline for their little tryst only adding to the excitement of the whole thing.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	dirty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Profundus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Profundus/gifts).



Some supply closet in the main building. A mop suddenly digs into Tetsurou's shoulder and he hastily throws it off, lets it clatter against the wall and eventually to the floor. Koutarou's already cackling at him, runs his fingers through Tetsurou's hair, _Aw, the mop not good enough a wig for you? You'll regret that when you go bald at thirty-eight,_ just earns him a hard pinch in his right ass cheek, the mouthy bastard. 

'S good like this, though. Hot and wild and quick, no time for trivial foreplay; this, right here—Koutarou pressed up against the wall, the only thing keeping him from dropping to the floor and probably get the handle of some brush stuck up his ass Tetsurou's arms—is purely to relieve excess energy. 

Satisfying matches, took some nice sets; Koutarou's ticked off face whenever Tetsurou got in some really good blocks the most delightful thing in the world. Could just reach through the net and grab at Koutarou's training jersey, pull until he can kiss the pout right off his face, no matter the audience. 

Koutarou's either high on a win or agitated by a loss, and either way, Tetsurou's in for a good time. 

But this—this is for him. Koutarou already got off, got his dick sucked by Tetsurou until he was barely restraining himself from knotting his mouth, and when Tetsurou runs his tongue over his teeth he can still taste Koutarou's come in every corner of his mouth, 

His dick now lies half-hard between their stomachs, spent but still twitching with interest every so often. 

It's not like Tetsurou's making it easy for him. 

Because it's not forbidden nor hushed, but it's frantic and rushed, the looming deadline for their little tryst only adding to the excitement of the whole thing, and Tetsurou's not quiet by any means. Between the two of them, Koutarou's the screamer, the one who howls Tetsurou's name over and over again, but Tetsurou does everything else—the moans and groans, filthy pleas uttered with no ounce of trepidation. And Tetsurou _does_ actually have some self-control, no matter what Kenma says; he simply decides not to apply any of it, sees no reason to since everyone knows about them anyway, so if they happen to pass by their little supply closet or—bless their innocent little hearts, Tetsurou will recommend them a good otologist since they _got_ to be half-deaf if they willingly open that door—enter it, than that's on them. 

Shorts kicked off and shirts bunched up, Tetsurou's cock vanishing in the stark black of Koutarou's kneepads. No lube, but then they usually don't need any, Tetsurou's own slick more than enough to allow an easy slip-and-glide, the material shiny and wet. Koutarou got the waterproof ones, as if he anticipated something like this happening sooner or later. (Knowing him, and knowing he's more than aware of Tetsurou's little, ah, _fixation_ , he probably did.) 

Noses at Koutarou's neck, the unblemished patch of skin. Slips his eyes closed and can already picture the indents of his canines, deep and angry and _his_ , the matching mark on his own neck.

A breathy laugh at his ear; of course, Koutarou knows exactly what he's thinking. Can probably feel it in the pulsing of Tetsurou's dick, the thought of finally being able to call Koutarou _MineMateForever_ almost enough to make him come. But not yet, wants to prolong it just a little longer before the rest of the day is filled with matches and teasing remarks shouted across opposing sides of the court—

"Soon," Koutarou murmurs, unusually soft, traces his lips up Tetsurou's neck and playfully nibbles right over the pulse point.

'Course, that's what makes Tetsurou come at last, warm and wet between Koutarou's already sticky thighs, and they're probably gonna have to clean the wall, too. He laughs breathlessly into Koutarou's shoulder, feels his partner's hand curl around his hip and draw iddle patterns into the heated skin as he rides out his high.

Fucker totally knew what he was doing.

* * *

Four sets in and suddenly there's a white streak painfully visible on one of Koutarou's black kneepads, glistening under the fluorescent lights of the gym. 

The ball falls uselessly to the floor, poor Inuoka who was supposed to serve beet red in the face. Kenma's sporting a disgusted look and Akaashi's making a face like he can't believe he's actually surprised. Konoha's unsuccessfully trying to muffle his laughter into the nook of his arm and Yaku looks like he's ready to end all of them and instead lets it out on poor Lev, who, oblivious to his impending demise, innocently asks, "What are we staring at?"

Even Coach Nekomata seems to squint harder than usual. 

They cleaned them off, but apparently not properly.

Koutarou looks at all of them, utterly confused, cute little owl-face going from one person to another and Tetsurou can't help it; he laughs, immediately attracts his partner's attention, runs his finger up the front of his thigh, smirks at Koutarou and casually says, "Yo, you got a little something right here, bro."

**Author's Note:**

> the wife wanted bokuroo so bokuroo she shall receive


End file.
